


Sympathy for the Devil

by madeleinedevalois



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Explicit Language, F/F, F/M, Gen, Loki Posing as Odin, M/M, Paperwork, Post-Thor: The Dark World, Rampant Bureaucracy, everyone is bi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-14
Updated: 2018-07-13
Packaged: 2019-05-23 05:59:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 5,097
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14928518
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/madeleinedevalois/pseuds/madeleinedevalois
Summary: Sophie did want a government job post-graduation, but not in Asgard as the secret-keeper-slash-therapist-slash-sole-remaining bureaucrat for Loki Odinson. Ah well, in this economy you take what you get.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Takes place chronologically after Thor: the Dark World, because god, SOMEONE must have been trying to keep Loki from running the government into the ground. How much did that giant golden statue take out of the budget? How many hernias among the poor, desperate bureaucrats did he cause?

**January 20, 2014**

I always tell myself I should bring my phone when I go out to do the laundry. It's so stupid, as a woman living alone minutes away from a university campus with a bad reputation, to leave my phone inside while I go to the laundry room around the side of the house, especially when you leave it to eleven at night. But I don't ever listen, no. Which means that when there's a weird huge flashing light outside the door, I am completely shit out of luck.

It's because of that situation that I ended up standing in a t-shirt and boxers just out of the pouring rain, a pile of towels in my arms, with my hair in an awful bun and a freshly picked zit on my face, staring at some soaking wet skinny dude in an alarming amount of leather.

"Beg your pardon," he gasps out, stiffening and trying to flick the rain off of himself while standing directly in the rain, "I appear to be… very lost."

"Um." What else is there to say? The only things he could possibly be is a cosplayer or fetishist. Sure, there were those Avengers guys, but they were in the huge metropolis cities, they never came to glorified suburbias like my city.

He saw my hesitation and put on what was clearly a forced smile. "Would it be possible for me to come inside for a moment and gather my bearings?"

Okay. Options, options… He was in the way so I couldn't just bolt back to my apartment.   I could try going the other way through the backyard, but I'd have crawl through my window with my towels because I wasn't going to abandon them when it cost $3.25 per load of laundry.

Apparently it was obvious that I was considering my escape routes. "I won't hurt you," he tried to assure me with that smile that didn't reach the eyes, which in turn said 'probably tortured small animals as a child', "I just need to get out of the rain while I figure out where I am."

"That's something that a murderer would say. There's a plaza about three blocks that way," I indicated with my head, "Someone should be able to help you."

With a heavy sigh he nods. "Very well then," he agreed, and with a wave of his hand his clothes appeared to actually * _morph_ *, changing into a much practical and normal-looking wool coat and suit.

I promptly stepped back inside the laundry and shut the door.

Great, one of those superheroes actually made it to our tiny city and was standing outside my laundry room and I was stuck inside without my phone, unable to google which one it was. (Definitely not Tony Stark, the only one I could recognise on sight.) Shit, it could even be a supervillain, though weren't the last ones a bunch aliens?

I waited a few moments before I opened the door to peek out. The weird man was nowhere to be seen. I hauled ass to my apartment with my towels, locking the door behind me and diving onto my phone to figure out who that guy was.

Googling 'the avengers dude in leather' turned out to be a VERY bad choice, so I checked their wikis instead. The attack on New York article had images of him on Stark Tower, and he was linked underneath as 'Loki of Asgard'. While I knew about the mythological Loki, I didn't know anything about the superhero Loki. I clicked the link.

Correction. Loki the superVILLAIN.

Who now knew where I lived.

Well, at least I didn't seem to be of too much interest to him. It would probably be best to file a police report saying that he was here, but would they take me seriously? I pondered this as I folded my towels. With any luck he'd run off to a bigger city and screw things up there, but still…

A knock on the door made me drop a handtowel. I stared at it in horror.

There was another knock.

"Excuse me, everything in the plaza is closed."

Supervillain horse-fucker remembered where I lived. GREAT.

His knocking became more insistent. Why didn't he go to the laundry room instead?

I crept over to the door and peeked through the blinds. He noticed and looked right at me with pathetic puppy dog eyes, completely soaked through. It wasn't enough to weaken me though.

Instead, I grabbed my umbrella, my nice,  _expensive_  umbrella, damn it, and opened the door a crack, shoving it out.

"Here. Good luck."

I slammed the door shut behind me. After a few moments I heard him walk away, crying out to whoever knows, "Skurge! Skurge, bring me back!"

Settling back onto the couch, I began refolding my towels. My umbrella would be missed, but its sacrifice would be remembered always, in preventing me from being murdered by a psychopath who fucked horses, who I would never see again.


	2. Chapter 2

**March 12, 2014**

The soul-crushing retail job I was working at  tragically did not pay me enough to invest in a new expensive umbrella. As such, when I went in to work on that stormy March day, my cheap collapsible umbrella flipped inside out and broke, meaning that I looked like a wreck when I got in. The assistant manager was not sympathetic.

"Shouldn't've lost your good umbrella." He said as I walked in, soaking wet with my hair in a now ratty-looking ponytail.

"Y'know, Eric," I start out, jabbing my finger in his face, "If you guys paid me better I could get a new good umbrella."

"Maybe you should get another job."

For all that he said that, I knew he wouldn't fire me. After all, no one else put up with his constant yammering on about the Avengers and related conspiracy theories.

"So, Captain America," he began this time as I began to refold shirts on the nearest table, "Did you hear how he's running ops for the government again?"

"No." Even with my recent encounter with Loki, I couldn't bring myself to care about superheroes.

"Well he's been doing undercover operations for S.H.I.E.L.D. since he was unfrozen."

Swear to god he just makes up shit stringing together random superhero buzzwords. "Uh huh."

"And he and Black Widow are part of a secret crack team of operatives that have been dealing with new alien threats that have been showing up-"

"What new aliens? Where are you getting this stuff from?"

Eric held up his phone, showing me the webpage. "Reddit."

"Ah, a verified, trustworthy source."

"You can't trust the news! It's all controlled by corporations and politicians who want to take advantage of the 'superhero saves the day' story and shut down the truth!"

With a groan I put down the last ugly plaid flannel shirt. "Right, so where are the aliens coming from?"

"The Mariana's Trench!"

"Dude, that's from Pacific Rim-" I looked back and saw him doing push-ups braced between the wall and the cashier's desk, "I swear to God, get your damn feet off the wall."

"Can't, gotta keep working out," he gasped out, "I wanna get on that black ops team."

"Ho-oly shit." I gave up. There'd be no talking to him tonight, "You better deal with customers still while you prep for black ops!" Calling that back, I headed over to the next wrecked table to re-fold everything.

It was a five hour shift full of unbelieving numb dullness. Eric kept up with his theories, telling me about the aliens that were going to invade Earth again, according to his friends on r/warofnewyork, following me around the shop while I tidied the tables and helped customers. I was thouroughly frustrated by the time we shut up shop at nine.

Instead of heading straight home, I opted for a stop at a small noodle shop nearby. Ramen here was better than any other place I'd tried, which was perfect because I was too exhausted from the utterly dull shift to even think about cooking at home.

I was sitting at the table, eyes fluttering shut with exhaustion as I tried to shove the ramen in my face, when someone sat down at my table. With a scowl I looked up.

"You look awful."

And there he was, Loki of Asgard, descending on my misery like a shark scenting blood.

"You look less dead than your wikipedia page would suggest."

He turned away from me with a wry smile. "This town is rather quaint and charming, is it not? I've grown rather fond of it these last months."

"You've been stuck here that long?" I asked skeptically, "Go home, dude."

"Of course I haven't been stuck here," gowering, he crossed his arms, "I've been back and forth. Got myself a penthouse by the harbour, to look over my new realm."

"Nice, you're running for mayor? I'll vote for you even if you did destroy New York, the current mayor is weirdly obsessed with bike lanes."

"I'm not running for mayor!" Snapped Loki, "This city will be my base of operations for taking over Midgard."

Ah, a dumbass. I raised my eyebrows as I lifted more noodles to my mouth. "I mean, this town has zero strategic value, but you do you, man."

With an impressive dramatic flourish he stood, flicking his hair back and looking down at me sternly. Not gonna lie - it was kind of hot.

"When this city is mine, and this world is mine, you will regret your flippancy." With that he stormed off, going off into the night with the air of a put-out peacock.

I watched him go, suddenly remembering after he had gone.

"…I forgot to ask for my umbrella back."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> we all know fuckin eric


	3. Chapter 3

**April 4, 2014**  
  
It was a dramatic day, to say the least.  
  
I had been sitting in class, trying to pay attention to the professor, when suddenly the girl next to me who was messing around on Facebook gasped jabbing her finger into her screen. I glanced at the screen.  
  
S.H.I.E.L.D. had fallen.  
  
Whispers erupted in the class, as those who had been messing around on the internet instead of listening to the lecture caught up everyone else. The professor tried to reign everybody in, but as soon as she found out what we were talking about, she pulled it up on the projector.  
  
We watched the Triskelion fall as it went. Some giant ship, a floating battlecruiser, crushed the building, and none of us knew if there was anyone in the building. We had lived through 9/11, watched the towers fall for weeks on repeat - to see it happen again was horrifying.  
  
In the days to come, information would come out. Captain America, Black Widow, the infiltration of S.H.I.E.L.D. by Neo-Nazis, all released onto WikiLeaks.  
  
I wondered if Loki knew.  
  
When I got home, I ignored all the notifications on Twitter and Facebook and went to lie down. This felt strangely personal now that I knew one of those weird superhero and/or villains - it was almost like hearing about a car crash victim that you went to high school with.  
  
Stupidly I opened up my messenger app, as if I could text him. But biting the inside of my cheek, I swapped into my group chat instead.

_Emily_   
**holy shit**

_Jessie_  
  
**I heard they're accusing Captain America**

 _Liz_  
  
**That's ridiculous! He's been better at defending people's rights than the government ever has**

 _Emily_  
  
**he's a nazi killer. i trust him more than any of those other avengers**  
  
**or the government**  
  
**@sophie what do you think?**  
  
What did I think? That the whole thing was an awful tragedy and that no one knew anything right now.  
  
But after my experiences with Loki, and knowing Captain America fought him…

 _Sophie_  
  
**Yeah, I trust Cap**

_Jessie_   
**Whoo! #TeamCap**

_Liz_  
  
**Hear that NSA?? Fuck yeah Captain America!!!**  
  
It was so strange, how close this suddenly was to all of us. How much we were investing ourselves in this situation, our lives with superheroes and its political ramifications.  
  
I turned off the notifications and crawled into bed.


	4. Chapter 4

**May 17th, 2014**  
  
It was stupid hot, but it was also the best weekend of the year: the local Highland Games.  
  
"Clan Maclachlan!" I shouted loudly, whooping as the man on the field flipped a large log. As the referee marked the angle of the caber toss, my friend tapped my shoulder.  
  
"I'm going to go check out the Irish dancing," Emily said, pointing to the other fields, "I'm done with the sausage fest - text me when they switch to the ladies."  
  
I rolled my eyes. "Alright, you massive gay."  
  
"Girl, you’re gay."

“I mean, yeah, but-” Instead of listening to me attempt a terrible comeback, Emily waved and wandered away as I turned back to the caber tossing.  
  
It was only a few minutes later that I heard a most irritating voice.  
  
"Clans, really?" It murmured close to my ear, "I didn't realize how barbaric you Midgardians still were."  
  
"On the other hand, Asgardians remain terribly obnoxious." I retorted back to Loki, turning to look at him, "Okay, how are you not melting in a full suit?"  
  
He smoothed his suit. "This is an illusion. It's rather marvelous, isn't it? Feels entirely real."  
  
It took me a moment to compose myself and pull an entirely straight face. "So what you're saying is… you're naked?"  
  
"What?" To my delight he was completely stunned, "Of course not, I weaved it out of magic."  
  
"There's a story about that, y'know. About a naked man wearing 'magic' clothes." Before he could decide on a way to murder me I changed the subject, "So, are you here to enjoy the strange barbaric festivals those in your new capital enjoy?"  
  
He scoffed as we watched the next competitor go. "I heard noise and I followed. Now, why aren't you screeching for this one the way you did before?"  
  
I pointed at the program listing the competitors. "He's from Clan Campbell, which is a rival to my clan, Maclachlan."  
  
With an eye roll he crossed his arms, watching the toss with the air of a ruler surveying his army. Which, if he ever did manage to take over Midgard for real instead of hiding out in some penthouse, he could well be doing.  
  
The god damn Campbell man set the caber nearly perfectly. I pouted as the rest of the crowd cheered, and Loki, noting how put out I looked, began clapping as well.  
  
"You're so rude, you know that?" Sighing, I turned away, "Anyhow, I'm going to go get something to eat before the sheep dog trials. Bye."  
  
When I walked away I found myself followed. "Can't imagine that there is anything worth eating here."  
  
"Well it is all over-priced and from food trucks, but that's a festival for you," I gave him my best 'weirded out' look, "Why are you following me?"  
  
He froze, realizing what he was doing, then scoffed unnecessarily loudly. "Don't be absurd. Why would I follow you?" There was so much offence in his voice that I almost considered believing him.  
  
Ignoring him I carried on, reaching the food trucks. Scotch pies looked good, but instead I followed my nose to the taco truck. The whole time I was very aware of my three-dimensional alien shadow, staring in disgust as I got my chicken tinga smothered in extra chipotle and a Coke.  
  
When I sat down at the nearby tables he joined me, watching me eat in an incredibly creepy way. I continued to blatantly ignore him to the best of my ability.  
  
"How awful." Loki was repulsed, whether at my food or my manners I couldn't tell.  
  
A festival volunteer came by with a plate full of samples. Glancing at it, I saw it was haggis and politely shook my head. Loki, on the other hand, took a look and seemed quite enthused.  
  
"Oh, real food, lovely." He plucked a piece a haggis from the plate, happily popping it in his mouth and chewing. It was my turn to look at him in horror, which he noticed. "What? It's sheep. Much more normal than whatever that slop on your plate is."  
  
"Dude. I'm an enthusiastic partaker in my heritage but even I don't fuck with haggis," I held up my taco, "And this is delicious Mexican food. Don't be racist."  
  
Loki blustered at me as I shoved the taco in my mouth. Behind us, a voice called out my name, and we turned to see Emily come up to us.  
  
"Sophie, the babes are going to be tossing cabers soon!" She shouted as she approached us. Her eyes landed on my creepy dining partner, "Who is this?"  
  
"Oh," I pulled a face as I tried to think of a way to introduce him without revealing that he was a horse-fucking alien supervillain, "This is…"  
  
Immediately Loki stood up, holding his hands in front of him. "Loren Olson. How do you do?"  
  
"Emily Davisson. Nice to meet you." She said hesitantly, her lesbian caution against men serving her well, "C'mon, girl, I wanna see some ripped biceps."  
  
Finishing off my taco, I wiped my hands off on Loki's jacket, flashing a peace sign as I sprinted off with Emily, hearing him sputter behind me.


	5. Chapter 5

**June 11th, 2014**  


  
I had lost track of how many shots I'd had thus far, but based on the movement of the room I figured I was well past my limit. But hey, it wasn't everyday that one graduates from university.  
  
Giggling happily I swung my arms around Emily and Tristan, our other friend who had the same convocation date.  
  
"We're free!" I screamed over the club's music and we all hollered in celebration.  
  
We danced and drank well into the night, and didn't leave the club until nearly four in the morning. By then exhaustion and nausea had hit me and I was sitting on the sidewalk, head between my knees, as Tristan called a cab and Emily left, following a cute girl back to her apartment.  
  
A prodding on my hip made me glance up in irritation, and of course, who else could zoom in on my misery so quickly?  
  
"You look horrible."  
  
I didn't say anything in response, but knowing that his fancy, shiny shoes were only illusions, I very deeply considered vomiting on them.  
  
Friend of the year Tristan noticed that a strange creepy man was looming over his drunken lady friend and went into protective mode. "Hey! Back the fuck up, dude!"  
  
Weakly I waved him away, but Loki was Loki and being threatened by a younger male amused the god of mischief. "Oh dear, Sophie, your boyfriend seems very possessive of you."  
  
Great, now I had to de-escalate the situation because of this dumbass. "It's fine, Tris, I know this prick," I mumbled out.  
  
My friend looked annoyed, but backed off in respect for me, leaving Loki looking rather disappointed.  
  
The cab pulled up and I stood to go over to it, stumbling in my heels. Hands shot out to steady me, and I saw Loki behind me, his brows furrowed in what might pass in some distant star systems as concern. "You really shouldn't take that cab," he said lowly, "My penthouse is nearby, you can rest there."  
  
Tristan looked between us fretfully. "Soph, you should go home."  
  
He was right, of course - at home I had a huge bottle of water and a couple of ibuprofen set out for myself ready for my return. But the idea of getting in the cab and driving for twenty minutes made my stomach flip in a nausea-inducing way.  
  
I swung my arm around Loki to balance myself and pointed directly at his face. "If I don't text you by ten tomorrow morning, he murdered me."  
  
Somehow Loki managed to help me into his complex and into the elevator without ever laying a hand on me. I, on the other hand, fully threw all my weight on him until we entered the elevator, where I slumped to the floor and yanked off my high heels.  
  
"You're not an elegant creature, are you?" He said, looking down at me both physically and mentally. I tossed one of my shoes at him, but the doors were opening on the top foor and instead my shoe found itself in the hallway. Gracefully he stepped out and opened his door as I scrambled out behind him, grabbing my wayward shoe.  
  
His apartment was _gorgeous_. Modern and sleek, but with touches of gold. The furnishings were black, with flourishes of gem-like greens and more gold. In the kitchen I could see top of the line equipment, and my envy increased tenfold, thinking of my shitty broken oven at home. In the kitchen I managed to find some unbelievably fancy crystal drinkware and chugged about two glasses of water.  
  
Even more beautiful than the functioning kitchen was the view through the giant windows. Loki was already standing there, his back to me, staring out over the lights of the city and the black ocean beyond.  
  
I came over, standing next to him and waving slightly as I stared out over the view. The lights of the city, even at four in the morning, glinted in the darkness, and their reflection on the ocean almost brought tears to my eyes, except I was still drunk and trying not to vomit.  
  
"Does this not make you feel like a king?" Purred Loki as he looked out, "As though you are above everyone else, and command their respect, their loyalty, their love."  
  
"I am nowhere near sober enough to be your therapist," I replied, slapping my hand on his shoulder, "And no, it doesn't. A king has responsibilities, and duty to his people. The only thing I owe to anyone right now is an exceptionally large sum of money in student loans."  
  
He frowned at me, his eyebrows furrowing. "I disagree. So long as you are a king, everyone owes you their adoration."  
  
I scoffed at him. "Don't be stupid. No one loves kings. If you want to be loved by the people, you create infrastructure to ensure that they never go hungry, they can afford to eat and put a roof over their heads. You afford that by either taxing the rich, making the courtiers hate you and plot to overthrow you, or by invading other countries for their wealth and resources, making the other countries hate you and call to their allies for revenge. If you ignore the people and favour the rich, the people hate you, and they will rebel."  
  
"Huh." He looked skeptical, "You seem to think you know a lot about how monarchy works, for a peasant of Midgard."  
  
"I have a degree in history, okay, I looked at monarchies over a thousand years and realized 'hmm, this is bad.'" Another wave of nausea overwhelmed me and I decided that Loki and the view weren't worth it, and stumbled over to the couch, collapsing onto it. I grabbed the least uncomfortable-looking throw pillow and propped my head up as best as I could.  
  
I closed my eyes, trying to will away the nausea as I drifted off. From the window I could hear Loki's footsteps come close to me, stopping right beside my head. But I didn't bother to open my eyes and look at him, focusing on my stomach and willing it to not exit my body during the night.  
  
The next morning, I was wrecked. Loki's stupid penthouse with its incredible windows let in so much sunlight that I probably would've developed a migraine first thing in the morning even if I hadn't been ridiculously hungover. Despite the pounding in my head, I dragged myself off the couch in search of the bathroom, last night's booze and the water catching up to me *hard*.  
  
I hated Loki a little bit more when I reached the bathroom of his penthouse. It was amazing, with a jacuzzi bathtub, a large glass shower, and a perfectly placed toilet over which to crumple.  
  
After I finished with the toilet, I checked over the shower and bathtub. Loki seemed to have stocked them up with alien-looking vials, presumably soaps and shampoos from Asgard. I picked out the nicest smelling one and put my hair up into a bun, hopping into the shower, steaming up nicely. Though the heat didn't help with my stomach, at least I felt clean.  
  
When I left the shower, I found to my horror that there were no towels. None hanging up, none in any drawers - the bastard had all those fancy soaps and not a single towel!  
  
I opened the door a crack. "I need a towel!"  
  
"I don't believe I invited you to use my shower." His stupid voice drifted in from the living room.  
  
"Did you want my booze scent all over the place? No? You're welcome. Get me a towel."  
  
"I don't have any."  
  
That seemed wrong and fake and I was certain the god of mischief was messing with me. "You're a liar."  
  
"Not at all. I air dry."  
  
I was going to murder him, slowly, painfully, possibly with one of those decorative pillows. Grabbing last night's clothes I pulled them, on, muttering darkly.  
  
In the living room, Loki was artfully lounging on the couch, flicking back his hair as he smiled up at me like he wasn't a sinner who didn't own towels. "How many times are you going to be wet in front of me?"  
  
"Until you slip on a wet floor and break your hip." My intention had been to tell him to die, but then I remembered 'supervillain' and 'fourteenth floor', and decided on a light accident instead.  
  
He looked vaguely amused as he stood up. "Come along now, we have places to be."  
  
"Sorry, 'we'?" But he was already leaving. The risk of being trapped in his weird and gorgeous penthouse had me following him against my better judgment.  
  
We went out onto his balcony area. The sun glinting off the ocean and the windowed buildings around us made my hungover ass wince in pain. "Are you going to put me out of my misery by shoving me off the building?"  
  
"Oh, no, I have a better form of misery to inflict on you."  
  
Before I could try to throw him over the edge in an attempt to save myself, Loki looked upwards to the sky, raising an arm. "Skurge!" He cried out, "Bring us home!"  
  
And so the worst migraine of my life came to be.  
  
Flashing lights descending on us from the sky, glinting with rainbow and fluorescent colours. A loud rushing noise came with it, and I felt my body be lifted at high speed, shooting up towards the sky. Loki stood next to me, looking as though this was completely normal, while my soul opted to depart from my body.  
  
Then suddenly we stopped. Loki gripped my arm and dragged me onto a cold, copper floor, where I promptly collapsed, getting rid of what little there was in my stomach as my head did its best to crack open and join my vomit on the ground.  
  
"Welcome back, my lord," said a vague shape that looked like a man out of the corner of my eye, "Who's she?"  
  
"This is - Sophie, get off the floor, you're embarrassing me."  
  
"The floor is the only person here who cares about me," I whispered, caressing it, "The floor is my friend."  
  
I felt a hand grab me by the back of my dress and pull me up, setting me on my feet. Immediately I swooned right onto their body.  
  
Loki looked utterly disturbed. "Get off of me," he hissed as he tried to shake me off, but I only clung tighter as the world swirled around me, "Skurge, take her."  
  
The vague shape of a man who went by the name of Skurge now seemed like a less-vague man-shape without hair. He peeled me off Loki and swung me over his shoulder, and my eyes clenched shut with the motion sickness.  
  
"Where are we taking her, my lord?"  
  
"To the infirmary, I suppose." Loki's voice sounded different - older, "They can figure out what's wrong with her."  
  
We left the weird round chamber that we were in, and I opened one of my eyes to see what was happening.  
  
The ground we were walking on was beautiful, like thick rainbow quartz over rushing waters that led out to a nearby horizon. Bracing myself on Skurge's, I pushed myself up to look behind me and found a golden city, with towers and spires and one central palace extending towards the sky. I would've gaped more, but the glittering of lights off the buildings made me wince, and I lowered myself down.  
  
"Beautiful, isn't it?" The odd voice of Loki said. I glanced over, only to see an old man walking alongside us, with grey hair, draping robes, and an eye-patch.  
  
"Loki?"  
  
"Shh!" He held up a finger towards me, "So long as you are here, you are to refer to me as 'Odin' or 'Allfather'."  
  
That seemed… very suspicious, considering that Wikipedia said Loki was dead and that Odin was the ruler of Asgard still. But I felt like shit, some random buff dude named 'Skurge' was carrying me on a bridge over water that seemed to drop off into a waterfall, and Loki killed eighty people in Germany like, two years ago, so I decided to keep my mouth shut.  
  
When we reached the end of the bridge, there was transport waiting. Some men and women saw me and expressed concern, and they loaded me onto a stretcher-like object that hovered. When I was loaded up, I looked over to Loki, who was seated on a horse.  
  
A horse with eight legs.  
  
"Oh my god," I whispered in horror.  
  
"She seems to have had an adverse effect to traveling through the Bifrost," he told the people taking care of me, "Do see that she recovers well."  
  
"Of course, Allfather," one of them, a woman I assumed, answered, "But who is she?"  
  
I was also interested in Loki's answer, and turned to him expectantly.  
  
A familiar looking smirk played on his face. "This is Sophie, our new ambassador from Midgard. See to it she is set up as such."  
  
With that, Loki rode off, and I was suddenly an employed university graduate.


End file.
